High Stakes
by Scribbler
Summary: Sometimes life's like an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules and smiles all the time. Yuffie and Leon wait to die or be saved, whichever comes first.


**Disclaimer****:** Ineffably not mine.

**A/N****:** Prize fic for Iki Teru, who came third in the Scrib!Fic Fanart Contest 2009 and requested something based on Leon for her drabble. Halfway though writing this I realised it could also fit for this week's KH Drabble challenge, 'Poker Face', as well.

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_**High Stakes**_

© Scribbler, June 2009.

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_God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of his own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and __who smiles all the time__. _-- Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, _**Good Omens**_, 1991.

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"It's not as bad as it looks. Honest." Yuffie refused to bite her lip. Since it looked like something from a nightmare, that still only brought it to 'damn awful'. She breathed though her mouth because the smell of blood clogged her nostrils and made her gorge rise. You _knew_ it was bad if even the ninja wanted to hurl.

Leon said nothing. His breathing was sharp and shallow, like each breath hurt but he was too stubborn to admit it. His eyes were closed, his face the grey of wet cardboard, and despite the cold he glistened with sweat. He might even have fainted, but she doubted it. He was too obstinate to fade out that easily.

Yuffie's internal Worry-o-Meter usually didn't stir until Things Black and Wriggly were actually up in her grill. Between them, she and Leon had already defeated the Heartless ambush, but it wasn't until her post-battle victory boogie that the needle had ratcheted into the red zone. The true extent of Leon's injuries made it stay there.

"You look shit," she said pleasantly. "Is that the fashion now?" She waited. "Squall?"

No answer.

His chest seemed horribly still.

_Oh no. _

Moving someone who'd nearly had their arm ripped off by falling boulders (and _had_ shattered his femur and several ribs) was a bad idea. Yuffie knew that. She wasn't, like, a total idiot. Flighty, sure. Capricious? Whatever. Yadda-yadda-yadda. But idiot? No way. You didn't survive nine years fighting a war against the Black and Wrigglies if you were an idiot.

"Squall?"

A blue slit appeared. Just one eye, but it was enough. "S'Leon."

Yuffie could've cheered – would've, too, if moving hadn't meant a long drop with a short stop at the bottom of the cliff. Damn unlucky, being attacked so far away from Hollow Bastion. Worse luck that had made the ledge collapse beneath them like that. Karma was obviously having an off day – or else had stored up all those times Aerith's baking 'mysteriously' went missing in Traverse Town, and was repaying Yuffie in one lump sum.

Yuffie had bound the tourniquet as best she knew how. Consequently, it looked like papier-mâché – if the liquid part of the mixture was red kool aid. She tried not to think about the bone fragments poking through the mess of fabric and mangled tissue. She tried even harder to forget the strips of torn flesh were Leon's. Leon was Mr. Indestructible. Captain Crusader. The Don of Defenders. Guardian of Goodness. Champion of the Oppressed, Needy and Those Who Liked Wearing Leather Pants Even in Summer. Leon was too… _Leon_ for even the Heartless to kill. Nine years and counting, baby! No way could a bunch of crummy rocks do what Ansem, Maleficent, Sephiroth and Organisation XIII could not.

Except time was running out, and no matter how stubborn, heroic, or just plain cool he was, Leon was still human. His human body could only take so much punishment. This had pushed it to its limits – possibly beyond.

Yuffie knew it. _So _not an idiot.

_Aerith, where are you? Say you saw the flare. Find us soon. Please._

Leon had spent the last nine years perfecting a look so blank it made an empty sheet of paper look crowded. It'd become his default expression. His features slipped into it even though it was obviously a struggle just staying conscious.

Yuffie grinned back. His poker face was good, but hers was better. To look at her, you could almost believe everything really would be okay. "Wanna play I-Spy?"

His blink was slow. "Sumthin' beginnin' with… 'R'."

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_**Fin.**_

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End file.
